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Thanksgiving has always been my jam. A Cajun lady, I love every part of family and cooking. I make a mean gumbo and I'm the gal who dreams up new brines for the turkey. I've been growing sage all year for the compound butter I would rub under Tom Turkey's skin. Perhaps I'll burn the sage this year to chase away the loss. I can't bear to do Thanksgiving this year, so I dreamt something better than brine...something kind for myself, just this year.

There is a lot of sorrow here. Perhaps it's what brought some of us back here. That's certainly the case for me. I missed my journal. I missed certain voices. I missed myself.

The past 8 weeks or so have been profoundly filled with shock and the deepest sorrow I have ever experienced. I've literally been on the floor unsure if I wanted a tomorrow. I can't explain how un-me that is. I love my life and the people who share it with me. So, I picked myself up and applied love and forgiveness. I released judgement, and let go. Tremendous work. Hard work. But what emerged is me, a bruised and beautiful me. The empty places are filling with exciting new things...adventure, freedom, and lovely people.

So, this year, no Tom Turkey, but a trip. An adventure, old friends to visit, and new memories. Most of all, gratitude for all that remains and for all to come. That's a pretty good start for giving thanks.